


Five Christmases

by FridaysAt9



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Arizona., Christmas, Christmas Morning, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hotels, Motels, North Carolina, Ohio, On the Run, Post-Canon, Shower Sex, Showers, Smoking, The Unremarkable House (X-Files), Vermont
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FridaysAt9/pseuds/FridaysAt9
Summary: Five Christmases after going on the run, starting with 2002, ending with 2006. Some are great, and others are not. But one thing remains the same, Mulder and Scully choose to be together.
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. 2002

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I was dying to write something Christmasy, and was thinking about how Crystal (ATTHS_TWICE) loves on the run stories, so I came up with this one and ran with it. I will post one chapter every day, with the last one posted on Christmas.
> 
> Also, chapter 2 is the only chapter that gives this its E rating. Read it, skip it, your choice. It is also my very first time writing smut. I don't know why I decided to add it, and I'm a little embarrassed, but it is what it is!
> 
> Anyway, hope you feel festive and happy by the end of this! Feedback always welcome and so, so appreciated!

The risk was worth it. She couldn’t go on like this, worrying about her mother worrying about her. She trusted that Skinner had told her mother everything that had happened and assured her that they were alright, but still. Scully had only had the joy of being a mother for such a short time, but even with so little experience under her belt, she had felt her love and the need to protect William so strongly. She couldn’t imagine what her mother had to be feeling with Christmas so near having not heard a single word from her daughter in seven months. 

It was December 21st, and Scully was struggling to keep her spirits up. She had never before spent the holidays away from her family, but this year, Mulder was a wanted man. They had spent nearly a year in hiding, traveling from place to place, sleeping in whatever motels they found along the way. Mulder rarely went out during the day, and Scully, with her newly dyed hair, only went out when it was entirely necessary.

They had nothing but time, and yet no way to pass it. 

Mulder was doing what he did most days lately, regardless of the weather. He was holed up in their cheap motel room, alternately flipping through the television channels and reading the newspaper, all while working his way through a bag of sunflower seeds. They had plans later to order food, Scully’s choice, and look for a Christmas movie on cable, but first she had an errand to run. 

She knew that Mulder was trying his best, working to keep her happy and show her how much he appreciated her devotion to him, and while she was thrilled to finally be together as more than partners with complicated feelings, there was so much of their former lives that she missed. Mulder was her world, the center of her universe, and her sole companion on this adventure, but it was the moments, and the people that she had left behind that continued to haunt her. 

They had booked the motel on the outskirts of town for the week. Anything they needed was available on the highway, but Scully needed some air. She wanted to get out of the car, so to speak, and live a little, in whatever way possible in their current situation. 

The motel had provided a stack of menus, brochures and coupons, most of which were expired, but among them she had found information about Historic Downtown Boon. There was a general store, and a holiday market as well as a few places to eat. Scully had tried to convince Mulder to come with her even though she knew before she asked that he would say no. He instead pulled her into his arms and kissed the brown hair on the top of her head. 

“Scully, I would love to take a walk with you,” he had whispered. “Anywhere. In a town or a grocery store, doesn’t matter. But I need to keep us safe, and I am a danger to you if they find me.”

She knew he was right, but she had been holding onto a small sliver of hope that he would be willing to take the chance, just this once, while they did something special together. 

So she found herself alone, walking along the main drag underneath the glowing snowflakes attached to the town’s lamp posts. It was one of those days where the cold cut through your body and went straight to your bones. The air had been damp and frigid all morning before turning to a persistent flurry that was beginning to accumulate on the ground, thicker on the grass than on the sidewalks and roadways. 

Families hustled from store to store, arms weighed down with shopping bags. A Salvation Army Santa rang a bell on the corner and Scully dropped a dollar in his pot. The air was filled with excitement and this year, instead of getting wrapped up in the magic of the season, it only made her heart ache. She used her mittened hand to wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

_ It wouldn’t always be like this, _ she thought.  _ Someday we will have a more normal life.  _

She had Mulder, and that meant everything. So many times she had almost lost him, but having him alive and by her side was the best Christmas gift she could have asked for. 

It was just this year. It wouldn’t be the same as other years, but in that moment she decided it should be no less special. After her errand, she would stop at a bakery and get them something sweet to share. 

Committed to make the most of the holiday, she pressed on to her destination, and finally saw it at the end of the block. As Scully approached the Post Office, she looked around, noting the passing cars and bundled passers by, none of whom seemed to be paying her much mind. She knew it was a risk, but she had to let her know. 

Taking one last glance over her shoulder, Scully removed a red envelope from inside her jacket. Written in a handwriting that was disguised to look different from her own was her mom’s name and address. She hoped that the card would arrive in time and be enough to settle Maggie’s concerns. 

Squeezing it to her chest, wishing she could let her mom know how much she missed her, Scully pulled the handle of the box down, dropped the card inside, pulled her hood up over her head, and turned back into the snow to head “home” to Mulder. 

____

On Christmas Eve morning, Maggie bundled up and walked out to the mailbox. Among the advertisements, catalogs, and cards from friends and family lay a single red envelope in an unfamiliar handwriting. There was no return address. 

When she got inside, she placed the mail on the table and opened the envelope, finding inside a beautiful gold and white card with an ornate message on the front that read “Faith, Love and Hope.” 

She smiled, opened the card, and read in the familiar handwriting that she had missed:

_ We are okay.  _

_ — D _


	2. 2003

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder buys a tree and the two have a merry time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeep! Here it is! The first smut I've ever written! I don't know why I included it, but it just called to me. So here it is! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this Christmas!

Mulder pushed the door open with his hip, reveling at the cold air that hit him in the face. He felt like he had trekked across a desert, which wasn’t far off from how he had spent the last hour. 

“Mulder!” Scully chastised, walking out of the hotel bathroom and taking him in, the whole sweaty mess of him. “Where have you been? You said you were going to the vending machine and you have been gone for over an hour. I was getting ready to call the police until I realized the car was missing, and switched to plotting all the ways I planned on killing you.”

He took off his baseball hat and threw it on the floor before wiping the sweat from his top lip and scruffy chin. They were staying in a small town in Arizona after Scully told him she was done with the south and would never eat another biscuit or hushpuppy as long as she lived. They had been driving from place to place for over a year, but had only recently decided to travel this far west. They had no jobs to be responsible for and nowhere they were needed to be, so they figured it was about time they did a little exploring and enjoyed themselves. It wasn’t all fear and sadness when hiding from a government that wanted you dead. 

What Mulder hadn’t anticipated is just how hot Arizona would be in December. According to the local news, they seemed to be having a heat wave. The balmy 78 degree evening made Mulder’s Christmas Eve adventure uncomfortable to say the least, but also disturbingly seasonally inappropriate. He didn’t need a white Christmas, but he didn’t know what to make of this type of holiday weather. 

“If you kill me,” he said to Scully with what he hoped was a charming smile, “you won’t get your surprise.” 

Scully quirked an eyebrow in response. God, he loved those eyebrows. 

“I’ll decide that after I see the surprise,” she said, but he could see she was happy. “Now get inside. You’re letting out all the air.”

Mulder held up his finger in a “one second” gesture and stepped out the door, keeping it propped open with his foot. He had placed the fruits of his labor to the side of the door and wanted to make a show of bringing them inside. 

First he grabbed the two plastic bags full of styrofoam containers that contained their dinner, and stretched from the doorway to the table to put them down, making sure to keep the door propped. 

“Mulder,” Scully said, with a questioning tone and began to walk towards him, but he raised his hand in the air, silently telling her to wait. 

Next he grabbed the chilled bottle of champagne and added it to the table, glancing at Scully as he did, happy to find her smiling that smile of hers that could make his heart stop. 

“One more,” he told her, before ducking back outside into the heat. 

Taking a breath to calm the excitement he was feeling, he stuck a hand through the branches to grab a hold of the tree’s trunk and lugged it through the door, finally letting it slam behind him.

“Mulder!” Scully yelped. Her smile was now big enough to show the gums above her teeth. That. That was the face he had been hoping for. 

“I was starting to think this place only had cacti and spiky desert trees, but turns out you can find a parking lot full of Christmas trees pretty much anywhere on December 24th.”

Scully shook her head before walking the rest of the way over to him and tipping her head up to him for a kiss. Her eyes were glassy but bright. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. He smiled in response, leaning in a little closer, but not quite all the way.

“I still say it’s too hot for Christmas,” he told her. “In my opinion. Though the holiday celebrates the birth of Jesus who, as you know, was born in a manger while his parents were traveling to be counted in the census. The likelihood that a census would be taken at a time of year when temperatures dropped to a low that would make travel difficult is fairly slim. So arguably, Christmas, which we celebrate in December probably due to pagan holidays, should really take place in a warmer, more travel-friendly month like say, September.”

“Mulder, would you just shut up and kiss me?”

Scully slid her hands up to the back of his neck, and pulled him down hungrily to her own lips, sliding her tongue delicately into his mouth before pulling back.

“Salty.”   


“Shower,” he said, nodding his head. The sweat was starting to dry on his skin and he smelled like he had carried a tree up a flight of stairs in the heat, which he had.

“Want some company?”

“I would never say no to Miss Dana Katherine Scully.”

She pulled on his shirt as she started to slowly walk backwards, leading them towards the bathroom. He watched her closely and could see the fire in her eyes. The past year had been difficult, and there were times when he wasn’t sure she would stay, but in that moment, he could see that he had done something right. He had made her happy and reminded her how much she meant to him. At least he hoped he had. 

“Miss?” she asked as she pulled his shirt over his head. He returned the favor and quickly leaned in to her to place wet kisses in the hollow of her neck. Her eyes closed and she let out a soft moan as he pushed her up against the bathroom door frame.

“Does miss sound too young?” he asked in between kisses. He felt her freeze. He pulled back to look in her eyes and shrugged. “I didn’t mean– Anyway, Ms? Doctor? Madam?”

Scully’s hands were at his waist, unbuttoning his pants and unzipping his fly, as she shook her head, humoring him as she always did. “How about we just stick with Scully?” 

Mulder chuckled and slid Scully’s pants down her legs as he stepped out of his own. He sent a quick prayer of thanks to whoever had invented the leggings that looked so great on her and took no effort to remove. 

Scully dipped her hands inside his boxers, venturing lower but teasingly just above where he wanted to feel them. He groaned both from frustration and pleasure, and buried his face in her chest, where he nibbled on her skin, leaving love bites in his wake, even though he knew she would complain about the marks tomorrow. 

“What about Dana?” he asked, barely above a whisper as he unhooked her bra, exposing her breasts to his hungry eyes, hands and mouth. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and he wasn’t sure if it was from what he was doing, or what he had asked.

It wasn’t the first time he had used her given name. While he had long ago told her he preferred not to use his own, her’s, Dana, was never truly off limits. When emotions were high, he felt like calling her Scully wasn’t enough, and yet, it had never before left his lips in a moment like this. 

“I…” Scully gasped as his tongue swirled around her nipple, his hands ghosting along the underside of her breasts. 

“I like it,” she said in a breathy voice. She had forgotten about her own hands, now stock still inside his boxers as he continued to lavish her breasts with attention, sucking one deep into his mouth while squeezing the other. He hummed in appreciation, causing Scully to take a sharp intake of air. 

Mulder stopped his mission to please to look up at her. This woman who was following him to the ends of the earth, to Arizona of all places, and who had never left his side. She had kept her hair dyed dark since they had been gone, and it was now long enough to hang just below her shoulders. This was a different Scully than the one who had spent her days in that basement office, but those blue eyes, searching his own, waiting to see what he would say or do next, were exactly the same. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her, and he meant it more than anything else he could think of at the moment. 

Scully gave him a shy smile that was quickly followed by a more seductive look. She made quick work of removing his boxers and her own underwear before taking his hand in hers, and turning the shower knob with the other. He watched as she held her hand under the stream of water, testing its temperature. 

They typically stayed in the least expensive hotels and motels they could find, but it was Christmas, and Mulder had insisted that they splurge a little this year. Having lost both his parents, he had inherited enough money to fund their travels, and thanks to the Lone Gunman’s paranoia, he had had hidden bank accounts in place for years. He assumed his official account had been seized by the FBI, or was at least being heavily watched, but he hadn’t risked checking it. 

He wasn’t sure about Scully’s account, but he knew she wasn’t accessing it so they could stay off the radar. They were frugal because they didn’t have a source of new income, but still, they could easily afford a few nights in a nicer place. The hotel where they would be spending Christmas had a king-size bed with more feathers and down than a goose. There was a small kitchenette, free HBO, and a bathroom filled with high-end soaps and creams that Scully oohed and aahed over as soon as they checked in. 

As they stepped into the spacious shower, under the large, full pressure shower head, Mulder counted himself lucky to be able to spend a night like this, a small respite from the stress they often felt in their current life. They had a routine when they showered together and quickly fell into step. Scully poured shampoo in her hair and turned her back to him. As she lathered, he rubbed his soapy hands along her back and shoulders before sliding his hands all the way down her legs and back up again, paying extra attention to her ass. He wrapped his arms around her, washing her breasts thoroughly before moving down her belly to her closely trimmed hair. 

She surprised him by quickly spinning in place to face him, and he let out a laugh until she silenced him with a sloppy kiss, her tongue exploring and tasting. Their hands roamed, caressing, squeezing. They had been together every day for nearly two years, but the novelty of being able to touch and taste each other whenever the mood was right had yet to wear off. 

Mulder slid his hand up her arm, heading for the back of her head but as he reached the tips of her hair along her shoulders, she suddenly pulled her lips from his, tipping her head under the shower spray to rinse her shampoo. 

“You’re playful today,” he growled, losing patience and wanting more. She winked at him and continued to rinse her hair as if she weren’t longing for his touch. She was a fucking brilliant actor. 

Her eyes were closed as the water fell over her hair and face, so she jumped in surprise when Mulder’s fingers found her body and suddenly slipped inside her. 

“Mulder!” she yelped, making him growl louder. She opened one eye, head still under the falling water. “I need to condition.”

“Later,” he said, and spun her so that he was under the shower head and she was in front of him, her back pressed against his chest, his nearly painful desire for her pressing sharply above her ass. 

“You didn’t even wash yourself yet,” she said in a breathy voice that said she didn’t expect or want him to reach for the soap at all.    


“Don’t care.”

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, but not uncomfortably so, just the way he knew drove her crazy, and plunged a finger inside of her while his other hand swirled slow circles right where she liked it. 

“Jesus…” she gasped, pushing her ass pack into him. 

“Did you want to hear more about my theory on weather and the census,” he said into her ear in a raspy tone, while continuing his work. 

“Shut. Up.”

Mulder kissed her neck and shoulders as he pushed two fingers deep inside her, before slowly sliding them nearly all the way out and back in again. He could feel her body responding as her breath quickened. Her hands flailed as she tried to reach for him but he held her tight, lightly grinding against her back and preventing her access. 

“I want…” she said, trying to string together a sentence when she was about to fall off the edge. “Touch you.”

He knew she wanted to touch him. He wanted her to touch him, but he wasn’t ready for that yet. She was wet from the shower, but even wetter for him, enabling his fingers to slide and pulse, curve and press, playing her body like an instrument. 

“I want to make you come,” he whispered into her ear before nipping her earlobe. “Dana.”

Saying her name was the last push she needed. Unable to hold it back any longer, she fell to pieces, screaming his name and a string of unintelligible swears and moans, curling around herself as she rode out her orgasm. 

“Mmm,” Mulder hummed, as he held her upright and slid his hands up to her hips, anchoring her in place. Her legs shook slightly and her hair was stuck to the side of her face. Seeing her like this never got old. 

Scully tipped her head back, looking at him over her shoulder. “Hi.” 

“Hey.”

“That was,” she said, with a satiated smile before letting out a small laugh. “That was really good.”

“Good?” 

“Great,” she answered, reaching behind her to grip his length. “Can I finally touch you now?”

“I’d say you already have the answer to that question.”

She gave him a squeeze before stroking him up and down with a feather-light touch that made his eyes roll back in his head. 

“Uh, Scully?” he mumbled, his voice strangled in an attempt to keep it together.

“Hmm?” she hummed, unrelenting in her task. His body twitched involuntarily while he tried to imagine baseball and Skinner yelling at him for not submitting reports on time. 

“I don’t,” he said and let out a jagged breath, placing his hand on top of hers. “I’m not going to make it if you keep doing that.”

Touching her, making her feel good, had always been nearly as enjoyable for him as it was for her. He had worked her into a frenzy, but wasn’t too far behind himself. He needed either a couple seconds pause, or he needed to be inside her, but if she kept touching him the way she was, wrapping her small, soft hands around him, teasing his balls and squeezing his shaft in just the right way, the show was going to be over before it had even started. 

“Maybe I’m okay with that,” she murmured, a teasing snark in her voice. She was so giving and always willing to reciprocate, but he needed to make her come again.

He grabbed her hips, and pulled her towards him, catching her off guard and making her gasp. 

“Not this time, Scully,” he said, placing one hand on her lower back, just to the side of her tattoo, smoothing his thumb across the snake. He took hold of his length, giving it a lazy pull to relieve a little pressure, almost losing himself in the process before using the tip to tease her waiting folds. 

Their height difference was an issue in the shower and demanded creativity or brute strength to be able to line them up perfectly, but despite Scully’s prim and proper exterior, he knew sex in the shower, with him at her back, was one of her favorite things that they did together. 

Scully bent forward a little more, and reached behind her, her hand meeting his, as they both guided him inside her. Their moans were perfectly in sync as he felt her warmth surround him. In his mind, he had one thought playing in a loop,  _ home. _

He pulled out slowly, giving her a chance to adjust, before pushing back in to the hilt. Scully let out a cry of pleasure as he grabbed on to her hips, pulling out and sinking in again. At this angle, it never took Scully long to climax, but it was always his mission to make her orgasm last as long as possible. 

After only a few thrusts, he could tell she was already close. She was losing control of her voice, making squeaks and grunts intermingled with his name and calls to God. He gripped her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh, pulling her back towards him and he pushed into her as far as he could go. 

Scully had nearly folded herself in half and reached back to cup his balls, playing with them in her hand in a way that sent sparks behind his eyes. 

“ScullyScullyScully,” he breathed, squeezing his eyes tight and quickening his pace. 

She let out a loud cry and slammed her hand up against the tiled wall to brace herself. 

“I’m gunna,” he mumbled, trying to keep it together, wanting to make it last. 

“Fuck, Mulder!” she yelled, followed by a gasp as he slapped his palm in the center of her back and slammed into her one final time before letting himself go, slowing his pace, pushing against her. 

They rocked together slowly, like drunks trying to find their way, as they came down and slowed their breathing. The shower poured on Mulder’s back, suddenly feeling too warm and too close. He reached behind him to cool it down before he could spontaneously combust. 

Scully slowly straightened herself to standing, causing Mulder to unceremoniously slip from within her. She rested her back against his chest, head resting below his shoulder. He tipped down, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“I still need to condition,” Scully told him and he laughed. 

Mulder grabbed the bottle of conditioner off the shelf and squirted some into his hand before working it through her dark hair. 

“Not the reaction I was looking for,” he teased as he massaged her scalp. 

“I love you,” she said, turning to face him. 

“I love you too,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose. “Let’s get your hair beautiful and get out of here. Someone trekked through the desert to find a tree, and there’s cold food and warm champagne calling our names.”

Scully smiled, content and happy. “Sounds perfect.”


	3. 2004

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully spend the most settled and domestic Christmas yet since going on the run, and it happens in a place Scully had never imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! Hope you have been enjoying the Christmas festivities! This one is short and sweet, and filled with love. 
> 
> Hope you are all happy and healthy (and not too stressed!). See you again tomorrow!

She rarely cooked large meals. She could count on one hand the number of times she had had her family over for a dinner that she prepared herself. When she and Mulder were in the bureau, so many of their meals had been on the road, during a case, or in a hotel room, that when she was home and alone, she preferred to keep things simple. 

When she was by herself, Scully liked to make salad, grill some chicken, whatever wasn’t going to take too much time or result in too many leftovers. As her partnership with Mulder grew more personal, the number of meals she ate on her own dwindled and so did her cooking, thanks to Mulder’s penchant for burgers and take out. 

But today was Christmas, and the mobile home that they were renting had a kitchen, something they hadn’t had access to in years, so she was going to make the most of it. On her last run to the store, she had picked up a small turkey with all the trimmings– stuffing, fresh green beans, mashed potatoes, and she had made a pan of brownies for dessert. 

Scully had hated the mobile home they were renting the second she saw it. It was old and run down, parked close to its neighbors in a sad and forgotten community in a boring Ohio town. The outside was mostly blue, but sections had been patched in white, giving the home a haphazard, unkempt look. There was a front porch made of wood covered in peeling white paint, and a “yard” in the back with a folding patio table. In short, it was the type of place Scully would never have imagined herself in.

When Mulder had insisted they look at the mobile home after seeing an ad in a circular he picked up at a gas station, Scully hadn’t been interested, and only agreed to the tip to make Mulder happy. He had seemed oddly excited at the prospect of “having their own place,” and she didn’t have the heart to crush something that, deep down, she wanted too.

“Mulder, this place is a dump,” she remembered telling him. She had nothing against mobile homes in general, but this particular property looked inches from being condemned. 

“It’s definitely not the Ritz,” he had said with a laugh, but insisted that they look inside before giving up on it, and she was glad they had. 

Despite the crumbling exterior, the inside of the mobile home had everything they needed. There was a comfortable living space, a decent-sized bedroom, a clean bathroom, and a kitchen with up-to-date appliances. Scully remembered turning to Mulder with her eyebrow cocked only to see his smug, what-did-I-tell-you face. 

They had filled the space with cheap furniture and the few things they had gathered and filled their trunk with while they had been on the run, and had spent the past two months feeling domestic and happy. Settled. They watched television on their threadbare couch, ate breakfast together at the small table they found for the kitchen, made love on the mattress laid on the bedroom floor and when the weather was mild, drank beers sitting in the lawn chairs on their dilapidated front porch. 

Mulder had strung a single strand of Christmas lights across the front of the home that shined brightly in the dreary weather of the past few weeks. Much to her surprise, he had even been willing to venture to a tree farm over the weekend, full beard, hat and sunglasses covering most of his face, of course. The small tree they had chopped down sat nestled in the corner of the living room covered an odd assortment of keychains, tchotchkes and bricka brack that they had pulled together. Scully smiled at the sad tree that could have been a friend of the one Charlie Brown had taken care of. She loved it.

Scully knew things weren’t perfect by the true definition of the word, but when she thought about their life over the past few months, living in this place, submitting their month-by-month rent in cash, it felt like the most perfect thing she had ever experienced. 

“Hey Honeybunch,” Mulder said, walking into the kitchen. He slid his arms around Scully’s waist and buried his nose in her neck. “It smells great in here.”

“Mulder!” she squealed, trying to break free of his grip. “I have to get the rolls out of the oven or they are going to burn.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

She swatted his arm and went about her work, finishing the last few things before they could sit down for a home cooked Christmas dinner. 

“Dana,” he said with a serious tone, catching her attention. “This is amazing.”

He didn’t often use her first name, but she knew when he did, he meant what he was saying. She could feel heat flush her cheeks, and not just from the oven she had just opened. 

She smiled, walking to the table where he was sitting and placed a kiss in his hair. 

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”


	4. 2005

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Eve, and Scully is tired of running. She needs to be heard and understood and it seems like Mulder has no idea what she wants. This one brings the angst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Happy Christmas Eve! Bringing you a little angsty chapter today. Some Christmases are great and others aren't. This year is not normal, but hopefully you can all find some happiness today and tomorrow!

“I’m exhausted!” she yelled at him, throwing her arms in the air and letting them flop helplessly to her sides. “Did you even have any plans for tomorrow?”

Mulder looked at her as if he had no idea where any of this was coming from. “We hadn’t talked about it.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

Scully sat on the motel bed, feeling defeated, and at the lowest point she had been in a while. She had grown to like their life in the mobile home and even allowed herself to believe that they were normal. When she let down her guard, she could pretend that they were a husband and wife, happily married despite the fact that they had little money and no family to speak of. Their home had not been full of children, but it had been full of love. 

They cooked dinners and watched Jeopardy. She read on the couch while Mulder rubbed her feet. Logically, she wanted more for them than a life as two unemployed outlaws in disguise living in a trailer park, but she had honestly felt happy there. 

Until Mulder started to get nervous. Someone had made eye contact for a second too long at the convenience store they frequented. The landline phone in their home rang and no one was on the other end. They started receiving a subscription to Cosmopolitan magazine that neither of them had ordered, addressed to a Dina Miller. 

The totality of the small instances that Scully believed meant nothing, and were just coincidences, was that Mulder had become paranoid. He no longer felt safe, and at the prospect of putting her in danger, he insisted it had been time for them to move on. 

Mulder sighed in frustration. “I just figured if you wanted to do something, you would say.”

She didn’t want to tell him what she wanted. She wanted him to see her, truly see her, and understand what she wanted. What she needed. He had always been able to read her moods, her thoughts, and her feelings, but at some point over the past months, a rift had developed between them. They were out of step. They felt like two individuals sharing a single space. 

It wasn’t that they were avoiding each other, but maybe just not actively seeking each other’s company. They spoke, and slept in each other’s arms at night, but they couldn’t possibly be less connected. Throughout the thirteen years they had known each other, Scully had never felt less understood and more in the dark. 

“It’s Christmas, Mulder,” she said, trying to hold back the tears she could feel building up. He should have known what that meant to her. 

She could see the muscle in his jaw tense as he paced from one side of the room to the other, considering his words, and noticeably keeping his distance from her. 

“I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Scully!” he yelled, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. “Nothing I do makes you happy! Can’t you see that I’m trying?”

She did know that he was doing his best, that they both were, but her overwhelming sadness and the angry look on his face made her see red. 

“Are you though?” she shot back, standing up from the bed, all five feet and change of her challenging him. “You make us pick up and move every goddamn time the breeze changes!”

“Do you want to get caught?” he yelled back. “Execution, Scully. They sentenced me to death! There’s no coming back from that.”

He was right. She knew he was right, but she was unhappy, and she didn’t know what to do about it. 

She let out a sigh, and walked to the small table by the door, grabbing the room key, and her jacket. 

“Where are you going?” Mulder asked, the anger draining from his face, replaced by concern. 

“I just need some air,” she said, giving him a sad smile before walking out the door. 

After leaving Ohio, they had moved from place to place, staying in hotels and motels mostly, but once renting a small cabin on a lake, before finally ending up in a small town in Vermont off of Interstate 91. The hotel was rundown and not much more than a place to sleep. It was cold, and the only place to walk was the motel’s surrounding parking lot. She would have to take the car if she wanted to go anywhere worthwhile, but it was after 8pm, and she doubted anything would be open anyway. She groaned and started walking.

With few options for letting out the pent up anger and frustration that filled her body, Scully resigned herself to pacing the motel’s outdoor concourse, staying at the far end of the building to avoid Mulder’s sightline. 

On her third pass by the front office, she tucked her hands in her pockets to keep them warm. On her fifth pass she rolled her neck, trying to decide what to do next. On her sixth, she stopped in front of a cigarette vending machine, using the side of it to flatten out the five she found in her pants pocket before feeding in the bill. She pulled the knob and bent down to retrieve her prize. 

Mulder didn’t like cigarettes, with good reason, which made her feel that much better to be holding a pack. She had never been a regular smoker, but the craving was often there just the same. She stole her mother’s cigarettes when she was young, smoked under the bleachers with the boys in high school, liked to pair her drinks with a few puffs when she was in college, but as an adult, she usually let the desire work its way out of her system on its own. 

Scully ripped into the package as she walked to their car, tearing the corner of the box in the process. She dug in her pocket, pulling out the keys as she stuck a cigarette between her lips. She felt better just having it there, unlit. Once in the car, she turned the key in the ignition to start the battery and pushed the cigarette lighter in. 

She didn’t want to be the bigger person this time. She didn’t feel like apologizing for whatever roll she played in their current situation. She wanted to be taken care of. She felt tired and old, beaten down from the years they had lived this way. She was ready for it to stop. So much time had passed, she doubted Mulder was the FBI’s top priority any more, and she was ready to end the cycle of running, finding comfort and picking up again. 

The lighter popped, and Scully held it to the end of the cigarette before taking a large inhale. She didn’t bother to open the window, wanting the smoke to fill the car, permeating her clothes and hair. She wanted him to smell it when she eventually went back, even though she knew she wouldn’t talk to him about it. 

She took another drag, finally feeling calm and hating that this is what had worked for her. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel, deciding that none of this was worth it. The following day was Christmas, and whether she liked it or not, they were in this together. She only had Mulder, and despite herself, she really did want to enjoy the holiday. 

Scully lifted her head and took another drag, holding the smoke in her lungs, when something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Mulder. He was standing outside her window, looking in with that look of his that was a cross between, bored, concerned, and unsure. He made a gesture for her to lower the window. She turned the key and pushed the button as she blew the smoke out the side of her mouth towards the passenger seat. 

“You know the car’s going to smell now,” he said, but she cut him off. 

“Mulder, don’t.”

He held up his hand. “We can buy a tree for the mirror.”

Scully stared at him, trying to read the situation, but she was so tired. She took another drag and looked straight ahead out the windshield. 

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to touch her face. She turned to him and felt like crying. “I got you something.”

At that, Scully laughed. Of course he had. For all his frustrating characteristics, his heart was the thing that always kept her grounded. 

Through the window, Mulder handed her a small, black velvet pouch, placing it in the palm of her hand. It was heavy and warm from his touch. 

“Open it.”

Scully threw her cigarette butt out the window, and turned the pouch over in her hands before pulling apart the small knot that held it closed. Inside she found a shiny rock, covered in lumps. 

“Fools gold?” she asked.

“The scientific name is iron pyrite, Scully,” Mulder said, causing her to roll her eyes. “I picked it up a while back. It made me think of us.”

“Fake gold, made you think of us?” Scully asked.

Mulder stood outside the window, his head tipped down to look at her. His eyes were sad and his nose was getting red from the cold. “This isn’t our real life, Scully, just like that gold isn’t the real thing. But I want you to know that I know that. I don’t want to live like this forever.”

Scully felt a tear roll down her cheek as she turned the gold over in her hand, letting it catch the light from the motel’s glowing sign. 

“Scully, I want to give you the real thing.” 

She reached a hand through the window, and slid her fingers down the side of his cold face. She had needed to hear him say that. Out loud. To know that the running would end at some point. 

“Thank you, Mulder.”

He smiled, taking her hand in his own. “Now can we go back inside?” he asked. “It’s fucking freezing out here.” 

Scully laughed and pulled her hand back into the car, putting up the window, and turning off the battery. When she got out, Mulder’s arm snaked around her back and pulled her close to his side. She handed him the almost full pack of cigarettes, which he tossed into the nearby garbage can, nearly missing, but getting them in. 

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”


	5. 2006

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to settle down. Mulder gives Scully an amazing Christmas gift.

The light from the sun was streaming in the window, and for a moment, Mulder couldn’t remember where he was. That happened to him from time to time, a sense of homelessness and displacement, that took a moment to recover from after waking up in the morning. Were they in a hotel, sleeping in the car at a rest stop? Back in the mobile home or in his Alexandria apartment? Or Scully’s?

Scully, sensing he was awake, snuggled her face deeper into the crook of his neck. There was a draft from the window across the room that left his cheek feeling cold, but Scully’s heat balanced it out, keeping them in a cocoon of warmth. 

She hummed a contented sigh and placed a kiss on his collar bone. “Morning.”

Mulder leaned forward to kiss her head in response, but froze. 

“Do you smell something?” he asked, his voice tinged with panic. 

“Coffee,” Scully mumbled. “The new machine has a timer. I set it so we could be caffeinated first thing.”

Mulder settled back into the mattress, glad that their new house wasn’t on fire. They had barely unpacked, and the house was full of very flammable boxes and bags. Plus a lit tree that they had chopped down in the woods at the back of their property a few days before. 

“You think of everything,” he told her, happy and comfortable. 

“I also bought cinnamon rolls and fruit when I was out yesterday, so we can have a nice breakfast.”

“Is there bacon?”

“Maybe,” she said with a smile. 

“Dana Scully,” he said with a teasing tone. “Are you giving us an idyllic Christmas?”

Scully answered by giving him a tight squeeze around his midsection.

After the previous year, anything they did today could be seen as idyllic. He had known Scully was tired of running, hell he was tired of running, but they had fallen into the cycle of moving and not getting too settled, and he hadn’t known how to get out of it. 

He and Scully hadn’t always seen eye to eye over the course of their partnership, but last Christmas Eve had felt more volatile and emotionally fraught than any other time they had spent together. They both knew it was time for a change, and he had made a decision then and there, hugging a cigarette-smoke scented Scully in a cold Vermont parking lot, that they wouldn’t spend another Christmas like that one. 

“Ok, Elf Scully,” he said, pulling back to look at her, sleep disheveled, soft and beautiful. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Well,” she said, trailing a finger through his chest hair. “First we wish each other a Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Scully.”

“Merry Christmas, Mulder,” she said, giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Then we get out of bed, put on some clothes, preferably red, or green, or plaid, and we make our coffee, yours gross, mine sweet and delicious, have some breakfast, and if you’re good, there might be a gift of two for you.”

“My coffee isn’t gross,” he told her. “I like to think of our coffee preferences like our personalities. Mine is dark and mysterious and yours is…” 

He flipped her onto her back, making a beeline for her chest with his mouth. “Sweet and delicious.”

“Mulder!” she yelped. “This is a complete deviation from my carefully planned schedule.”

“I was never one for rules,” he said, kissing a line along the valley of her breasts, before she grabbed his head, one hand on each temple. 

“Later,” she told him. “First I want to do Christmas morning.”

“About that,” Mulder said, feeling suddenly nervous and hoping she wouldn’t notice. 

“What is it Mulder?” Scully asked, dropping all playfulness. “You’re making that face.”

“If we wait until later, we might have to wait until much later.”

Scully looked at him, confused and concerned, with a crease between her eyebrows, and an icy blue stare that let him know that he wasn’t going to keep his plans from her for much longer. 

Over the years, Scully had found ways to reach out to her mother to let her know that they were alright. She sent small notes from time to time, making sure to disguise her handwriting and never included a return address. On very rare occasions, Scully would place a call from a pay phone. Mulder would have preferred that Scully have a system for making contact, leaving several stops in between, calling on unimportant days, or writing information in a more coded fashion, but he trusted her not to do anything that would put them in harm's way, and because of that, he wasn’t exactly sure how often they spoke, or how much Maggie knew about their lives. 

What he did know for sure was that no matter how much Scully hid it, she missed her mother more than anything in the world. 

They had purchased the ramshackle house in Farrs Corner in Scully’s name, and Scully’s name alone. They used cash for the purchase, and Mulder had not been present when the paperwork was signed. They had very little to move in, but somehow managed to amass a trunk full of items that were now strewn around in various states of unpack. 

It had only been two weeks since their first night in the house, but it already felt like home. There had been a few pieces of furniture left behind by the previous owners, and all the other immediate necessities had been easily acquired by a late night, and disguised in his case, trip to Ikea. 

What they hadn’t done since moving in, was discuss what level of normalcy they would have moving forward. Scully was now on the map. She held a deed to a house. She wasn’t wanted by the FBI like he was, so technically she was free to work, free to socialize, free to live. 

And free to see her mother. 

Mulder knew the thought must have been on her mind, but she hadn’t brought it up to him yet, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. Imagine Maggie’s surprise when Fox Mulder’s voice came across her phone line. 

“It was going to be a surprise,” Mulder told her. “Your big Christmas gift… And I can tell by the face you are making that you are not in the mood for a surprise, and might beat it out of me if I don’t tell you.”

“Mulder,” she said with the voice she used when she was trying to make him understand something was not an X-file. “I am going to need you to tell me what you did so I can plan how I am going to deal with it.”

“Come on, Scully,” he said, absentmindedly running his hand through her hair. “Have a little faith.”

“Mulder…”

Her tone was a warning, so he held his hands in the air, as best he could while lying on top of her, and surrendered. 

“OK,” he said, now feeling very nervous. “I invited a guest for dinner.”

Scully shot out from under him, sitting up naked and clutching the sheets and blankets in her lap. Mulder smiled, trying to decide between stretching out the moment for the sake of suspense, or telling her immediately so he could see the look on her face. He decided on the latter. 

“I called your mom,” he said as Scully’s hands flew to her face, covering her mouth. “I told her that we had bought a house, and I asked her to come for Christmas. As it turns out, Bill and his family won’t be in until tomorrow, so she only had to cancel plans with a friend in order to be available to come over to have dinner with us.”

Scully didn’t say anything, just shook her head slightly as a fat tear slid down her cheek. Mulder reached out to wipe it away, giving her a shy smile like a child seeking approval. 

She uncovered her mouth and spoke. “You used the phone?”

Mulder let out a laugh, and pulled her to him in a bear hug. 

“The look on your face made it worth the risk.”

“And what about my mom?” Scully asked, looking up at him with concern. “What about the risk of her coming here?”

“Scully, you bought a house. It’s time for you to live again,” he said. “We will have to come up with a story to use when people ask you about me, but if you moved back to the area, anyone who knows you would expect you to see your mother.”

Scully considered this. “So I live in this big house alone?”

“I guess?” he said, unsure if any of this was going to work. “But your mom is a part of this life. That’s nonnegotiable.”

Scully pulled back and took his hands in her own, bringing them to her lips to kiss his knuckles. 

“Thank you.”

Mulder nodded in response. 

“And I only got you a sweater,” she said, making him laugh. “Well, and a few other things. But thank you Mulder, this is an amazing gift.”

“It’s nice to see you happy,” he told her, and he meant it. 

Scully smiled and turned to get out of bed before walking her beautiful, naked form to the bathroom. She looked back over her shoulder.

“Now hurry up and get dressed,” she said, “because of course I bought you the bacon.”


End file.
